My love for Italy

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Recently I’ve become so much obsessed with Italy that I’ve decided to start saving for it as soon as I start working. I had this dream to visit Europe before my life ends, and with time, I think the urge to visit is only getting stronger.

I am currently learning Italian. It’s wonderful. Do you know what’s the beauty in it? Every single thing has a gender. And I’m always curious and thinking of random things, guessing which gender it would fall in.

I never felt bread could ever be masculine, but it is. And I never thought a tiger could be feminine… a few things simply shock me, and that is the best thing in Italian. It’s fun to know which is which gender… And it’s fun to learn the language, too.

I really hope to visit Venice someday (being the hopeless-cheesy-romantic that I am) and perhaps look for an Italian boyfriend there (just kidding, I’m sure I won’t)… and I wish I could lay my hands on one of those beautiful venetian masks…

I’d like to visit the Colosseum, I’d like to look at the famous sculptures of Michelangelo and the paintings of Leonardo… I’d like a cruise in the Mediterranean sea. And a trip to Sicily would be great, too.

There’s no question about going to Florence, I’m definitely going. The place where interesting this happened in history – it couldn’t be left out at any cost.

I wonder what it would be like to sit in a gondola while the man who rows the boat sings high-pitched Italian songs in the midst of the river and shatter your ears… A girl can dream…

And to make it come true, I have to save… a lot. And I will. Anything for Italy. I just wish I’d really be able to actually carry out my plan. My friend D said that she’d be coming with me, and asked me to inform her whenever I plan to visit Europe, despite whatever situation we’d be in (okay, she didn’t say that)… the point is, she said she’d go with me.

But I’m not completely sure of the future. Who knows? She might even be in the midst of some highly-paid job in the future requiring her every minute? But I know one thing for sure – I will visit Italy even if she doesn’t have the time… although it would be great if she came along.

I don’t know what lays there for me, but it has got me all excited! Italy is one place I know I’ll never regret visiting!

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A dream come true…

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It was the time when the last vestiges of dark decided to flee on seeing the sanguine rays of the sun; it was the time when the streetlamps were still glowing despite the appearance of the sunrays, and the city that resembled a beast at day, was actually asleep.

The air was fresh, and she took a deep breath as her legs pedalled on. She cycled through the transparent mist, like a free bird gliding across the ocean. She was taken to DreamWorld completely, and the surrealism of it all made her eyes wide.

The clean street was lined with streetlamps, providing their dull orange glow to the day, telling her it was all a dream. And this dream of hers was punctuated by reality as now and again, a few lamps went missing from the oh-so-consistent line.

And in those gaps of reality that seeped through, the sun rays painted the place with warmth even as chilly winds of the late night kept blowing at her. Something told her reality could be nothing like this.

As she entered a narrow alley which wasn’t yet blessed by the warm rays of the sun, she hit the brakes and got down. The rows of houses that adorned the street were enveloped in a thin sheet of dust. A few green plants grew everywhere, and she clasped her tiny hands and cast her sight heavenwards.

“Oh, this place cannot just be real,” she said. “It looks as if I’ve entered a world I’d never visited before.”

And then came the voice from heaven: “This is what early morning feels like, my child.”

An alley early in the morning

Exotic Italy! 🙂

A midwinter night’s dream

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It was a dreamlike night:

Tranquil moon casting a spell

Amidst silver-lined clouds,

Cluttered with glassy flakes of snow.

From the snow, came alive

The fairy of July.

Dancing, prancing, she livened the air,

Crushing wood to a silvery haze.

Enveloped in an icy gown,

Frosty hairpins keeping the hair down,

Like Cinderella of modern day,

Was the little icicle-nosed fay.

Her tiny finger swished,

And around swirled the mist.

Tinges of purple, white and blue

Made up the naughty midnight hue.

The silvery fog wound its way

Along castle turrets and highways;alps-21844_640

Over the frost-covered serpentine path,

As glossy ice stilettos glided forward.

With the blink of a delicate lash,

She whipped the snow out of sight.

Dusting her tiny hands like a fairytale bride,

Boisterously, she was off into the night.

Silent Wails

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This is my first time attempting tanka. I hope it hasn’t gone awry.



Tears as cold as fire,

Ran down her cheek, reflecting

Countless nights spent crying,

Waiting for his apology

To end their fight, to soothe her.

The real hero

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A man of strength and of strong-will he is,
A man of endless patience and humor;
He blows away his worries in a single breath,
And moves casually forward.
He laughs despite his worries;
Even when life throws challenges at him;
He conceals his inward suffering,
And lives like the great man he is.
He often gets angry;
‘Cause life had never been fair.
It snatched his eyes away from him,
And in a dark corner, made him sit.
He had a wish, that man;
To see his little granddaughter once.
For, he had seen neither of his two grandchildren
Nor his two son-in-laws.
She had the same wish too,
And asked him when he’d be able to see.
He told her he had been praying God,
And his wish might be answered one day.
Back then, she was his everything;
Her laughter was a comfort in the dark.
He taught her things, and took pride in her;
He was the most loving grandpa there was.
He lifted her to the high window frequently,
Where she liked to stand;
He made her swing on his feet while he sat;
He encouraged her every whim.
At first, everything was great,
Everyone was happy.
But the real problems arrived,
When his health took a sharp turn.
He was needed to rush to the doc
Every now and again,
And that’s when his granddaughter,
Was not really there.
A little over a decade of struggle,
And he’s still the same.
Today, he’s at the hospital, very weak,
And she feels helpless, being far away.
She visited the temple nearby,
But that was just for peace.
She wants to see him now,
She misses him like hell.
He asked her granny to tell her he was fine,
Though he was barely himself.
But she got the news, along with what he’d mentioned,
And wrote a poem on how he’s the best.
A grandfather’s love is so pure,
So selfless,
That all he would want, even now,
Is the happiness of his daughters and grandchildren.


I love you, grandpa. You were the best.